


pick up the clock (and mend the broken hand)

by TheAmethystWitch



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fillory Is Its Own Warning, Fix-It, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Time Travel, after some thinking ive decided to add puns warning, it is 180th magicians fix it as im typing this, they will hurt you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 04:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20829641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmethystWitch/pseuds/TheAmethystWitch
Summary: "Wait, did you cut your hair when I was gone?" Quentin asks and it's the most ridiculous question in the world because Q really sounds as if he had just come back from the grocery store and not from the fucking dead."I don't understand. You died," Eliot finally manages to get out, "You died," he says again, putting more emphasis on the dead part because Quentin still doesn't seem to get it.





	pick up the clock (and mend the broken hand)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annelesbonny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annelesbonny/gifts).

> Gift for annelesbonny for writing wonderful Quentin & Margo interactions. You made me love them and then you made me live in a world where there are so few fanfics that focus on their friendship. How dare you.
> 
> As always, my thanks go to my best friend who read this over for me.

Eliot lazily moves his hand towards the other end of the table, trying to reach the bottle of wine. He almost succeeds in getting it without getting up when he hears a noise coming from the other end of the room. He ignores it. It's probably Margo; she comes to him at least once a day around afternoon to convince him to go for a walk around the castle. Nothing fancy, just a quick route through the gardens and the west wing. He usually agrees – he may be a useless sack of shit at the moment, but he can be a useless sack of shit that doesn't worry Margo too much.

His hand falls down with a thump as he admits defeat. He can't reach the wine from here and he sure as hell is not going to get up to get it. (How did it end up so far away from him in the first place? It's not like he goes anywhere) Maybe Margo can get it for him. 

Yeah, no.

"Eliot?" he hears a voice.

He mentally prepares to tell anyone that disturbs him to kindly fuck off when he finally recognizes the person who called him.

_Quentin. _

Eliot immediately gets up and stares in shock. He is greeted by the sight of a guy in his late 20s literally coming out of his closet _and that cannot possibly be Quentin._

"Q...," he begins, but doesn't have the strength to finish the sentence. Because Q is right in front of him, _alive. _How is he supposed to react to that?

Maybe Eliot is just hallucinating. Yeah, it makes sense. He definitely has enough in his system to have hallucinations. And wouldn't it be fucking typical of him to see the ghost of the dead love of his life like he's in a Shakespearean tragedy or something. Except...

Quentin looks different than the last time he saw him. His features are more defined and his hair is long, longer than it's ever been if you don't count fifty years with the mosaic. 

But the biggest contrast between his Q and this one is how happy this Q is. His smile actually reaches his eyes and it makes Eliot want to cry a little. How rarely he got to see his Quentin this fucking radiant.

"... and yeah, I know that it was supposed to be your "me time", I get that. But I found this spell and I really think it can let us get rid off Timberwolves at the southern border, it just, I kind of need your help with this one," Quentin continues on, completely oblivious to Eliot's shock, "Wait, I think I've just remembered something..." he says and starts to search through the Fillory book in his hands.

Q wears his happy day sweater, Eliot notices absentmindedly. It's grey, worn-out and Q has had it since forever. He remembers Q telling him that he tends to wear it when he is in a particularly good mood and doesn't want anything, even uncomfortable clothing, to ruin it.

"Yeah, got it. Jane Chatwin came across Timberwolves briefly in chapter nine. They are particularly vulnerable to..." Maybe-Quentin stops talking mid-sentence when he turns his attention to Eliot and notices his distress, "El, what's wrong?"

Eliot doesn't answer and instead just stares at him, trying to memorize every inch. It's worse, he decides, seeing him like this. He doesn't think he could handle seeing Q from the park or even Q from that disastrous conversation after the mosaic, but at least it would hurt less. This Q... this Q is what could have been if Eliot didn't fuck it all up and it hurts like a bitch.

Unable to stop himself, Eliot takes a step towards Q and when he realizes Q doesn't disappear he takes another two.

"Wait, did you cut your hair when I was gone?" Quentin asks and it's the most ridiculous question in the world because Q really sounds as if he had just come back from the grocery store and not from the fucking dead.

"I don't understand. You died," Eliot finally manages to get out, "You _died, _" he says again, putting more emphasis on the dead part because Quentin still doesn't seem to get it.

"What? Eliot, that was ages ago, have you had a nightmare agai-," Quentin's eyes widen in shock as he stares at Eliot intensely. He looks around the room frantically, becoming more and more nervous with every second. His gaze returns to Eliot and it seems like understanding is dawning on him.

"Shit."

Quentin turns around and clearly wants to run away the way he came, but there is no way in hell Eliot's going to let him go. He grabs his arm and stops him before Quentin has a chance to take more than two steps.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit...," Q mutters under his nose and tries to get out, but Eliot just pulls him harder and traps him with both of his arms. He doesn't know what is happening, but he can't lose Q, not again...

Quentin tries to jerk away a few more times before giving up. He stops pulling away and takes a deep breath, calming himself. He kind of... melts into Eliot's arms and Eliot can't decide if he should enjoy it while it lasts or be weirded out.

"Eliot, can you let me go, please?" Quentin asks calmly as if he was talking to a child that's about to have a temper tantrum.

Eliot doesn't loosen his hold.

"You died. How are you here?" Eliot whispers and yeah, he's begging and he doesn't care.

Pained expression goes through Quentin's face, but it quickly softens, his eyes full of... something. He used to look at Eliot like that a lot.

"I'm not... I'm not your Q."

Eliot lets go of him as if his skin burned.

"Shit. I mean, I am your Q, always yours, never doubt that, just..." Quentin rumbles. God, Eliot misses him so much.

"Tell me," he demands quietly. He thinks that if he tried speaking louder he would fall apart completely.

Quentin goes through his hair with his hand and sighs. He takes Eliot's hand and while Eliot is watching him like a hawk he doesn't pull away.

"I am your Quentin, timeline 40. I'm just... from the future?" he spreads his hands in the _what are you going to do? _gesture," I was trying to get to Fillory through the usual portal and I don't know what happened. I guess Fillory decided no one messed with us for a while and sent me back to the past to the one freaking moment in time it shouldn't."

Q scoffs in irritation at the thought, but then seems to remember that Eliot is upset and his expression quickly sobers. His hand is still in Eliot's.

"It's you?" Eliot doesn't dare to believe it, doesn't dare to think that he has another chance (and he doesn't deserve one, he knows). He's not brave enough to hope.

"Peaches and plums, motherfucker," Quentin says with a reassuring smile.

Of all the things Quentin could have said... These words. This one perfect phrase. 

Suddenly, he has a moment of clarity. Quentin is right in front of him. He is here and Eliot can say the words he thought he would never get to tell Q again. He takes Q's hands into his hands and raises them to his chest level, holding onto them like they are his lifeline, mostly because they are. Something in him breaks and flood of desperate words falls out of him.

"I'll choose you, I'll always choose you, I love you, Q, I love you so fucking much. I am so fucking sorry, _I love youIchooseyouIloveyouplease _...," he repeats quietly over and over, because Quentin needs to know that, he can't die again not knowing that.

Quentin frees his hands and pulls Eliot into a hug. At some point Eliot realizes he's started crying, but all he can feel is the warmth of Q's skin and smell of his hair. Quentin holds him tight and whispers soothing words to him, probably trying to calm him down, but it only makes Eliot cry harder. His body is shaking now, unable to stay still Q must realize it too, because after a moment he just rocks him back and forth, and says:

"I know, El, I know. You've told me, God, so many times. I love you, too. It's okay."

Eliot doesn't know how long they stay like that. An absolute mess of a person and his impossibly not-dead soulmate. 

When they finally break apart, it is Eliot that pulls away. Quentin's grey sweater is ruined with his tears, which is not exactly a surprise. The wetness on Eliot's shirt is though. He touches Q's cheeks and feels tears under his fingers. Quentin started crying too.

"If you wanted to eat my brains, you would have done it by now, so at least I can cross that out of my list," Eliot jokes and smiles weakly. He's absolutely exhausted and yet he feels better and lighter than he has in months. Quentin smiles back and he's so beautiful Eliot can't take his eyes off him, "Wait, is it actually a thing in Fillory?"

"Hmm... There is that weird colony of bees in the books that eat human brains post-mortem because they believe it will grant them people's wisdom. I mean, all of it was written in poetic text and was probably supposed to be a metaphor, but that is basically what happened."

"Knowing Fillory? That is definitely what happened," Eliot says. He falls silent for a moment and smirks.

"What?"

"Zom-bees," Eliot says with the best shit eating grin he can master. 

Quentin groans loudly and punches him lightly in the arm, "God, I hate you so much."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't, " Q answers sincerely.

They stay in comfortable silence for a while. Eliot stares at Quentin's rising and falling chest and it's the happiest he has felt since fucking forever.

So of course it doesn't last.

Quentin's amusement slowly fades and is replaced by sorrow. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, obviously changing his mind. He thinks for a while, sighs and says simply, "I can't stay."

Eliot freezes. His first instinct is to grab Q again and never let him go. He resists the urge mostly because he doesn't think Q would appreciate trapping him again. He swallows and tries very hard to suppress the panic that's building in his chest.

"Because you're from the future?" he still phrases it like a question. You would think that after all the crazy shit he's experienced he would stop being dumbfounded every time it pops up and yet...

Quentin nods. Think about it rationally, Eliot tells himself. Q has to go back, so he doesn't fuck up time-space continuum. He probably has very sexy Eliot waiting for him and since one day Eliot will be that Eliot, Quentin won't really leave him.

_Wait... _Eliot's stupid brain finally seems to catch up to him. The future?

"If you are from the future of timeline 40 that means... I get you back?" Not waiting for Q's response Eliot lets out a shaky laugh, "I get you back."

Overwhelming relief goes through his whole body and gigantic weight he has been carrying for every single second since Q's death evaporated into thin air. For the last two months he hasn't been living, not really. He's been only existing. Living is existing with a purpose and he feels that purpose filling his body and pumping his blood. It's so weird to care about shit again, Eliot thinks. It's been so long he almost forgot that it involves more than just pain and misery. The energy and determination he feels in his veins – that's caring, too.

"Uhm..."

Eliot turns his attention to Q, suddenly very aware of how awkward and unenthusiastic Quentin looks. _Uhm? _What does _Uhm? _mean?

"Quentin, how do I get you back?" he tries to ask, but what comes out of his mouth is more of a demand than a question.

Q doesn't meet his eyes and after a moment he just directs his gaze to his shoes.

"You know I can't tell you. It may fuck up the timeline and it's not like either of us wants any more problems," Quentin says, “Look, I'm sorry.”

"Bullshit. At the moment I have only one problem – you being dead. I will gladly accept literally any other problem that isn't that."

"You don't mean that,” Q says and hides his face behind his hair. The gesture is so familiar Eliot is immediately thrown back to the times Q used to do it more often, back at the beginning, when the Beast was still their biggest problem and Q got flustered around Eliot way too easily. The memories feel unreal in comparison to the shitshow that they're living in right now. 

For a moment Eliot wants to follow up on what Q said, because Eliot _definitely means that, _but quickly changes his mind. Quentin does know that. It's a matter of convincing him that Eliot's undying devotion is worth risking the safety of time and space over. Eliot remembers watching some movie with Margo where main character basically sacrificed the world for the love of their life and it was supposed to be all romantic and shit. He and Margo were too busy screaming at the screen and complaining how stupid that is to pay attention to the rest of the movie. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

He needs to change his tactics.

"Do you even know how I brought you back? Because I assume it was me."

"Uuuhm... Kinda? We didn't really talk about it much. I mean, you did tell me the basics, just... You were so happy when you found me and I... The how didn't really seem that important," Quentin admits and pauses for a few seconds, his gaze far away, "Anyway, me being dead or not dead is actually a pretty big deal for me, believe it or not. I like my life the way it is, thank you very much. If I tell you and I mess this up... "

"You won't. How long did it take me to bring you back, anyway? Because it's been about two months for me."

"You brought me back around this time, yeah.” Quentin says reluctantly. Eliot beams at him.

"See? So, what if your Eliot knew how to bring you back because the future you told him. And now you have to tell me, so that I can get you back," it makes more and more sense the more Eliot thinks about it. He doesn't know what he'll do if he won't be able to change Q's mind.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to. Q looks more and more unsure about what to do, "Okay, suppose that's true, why did you never tell me about this?"

"Because I knew you didn't know it then and I couldn't tell you and change it," he says simply and thanks the heavens for all the seasons of Doctor Who Margo forced him to watch.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Q finally admits, defeated.

“...”

"..."

"God, our lives." 

"Yeah, I know”

They grin at each other, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting them.

"It's not even the first time paradox we caused together, sweetheart. At this point, it is a tradition," Eliot adds unnecessary, because Quentin is pretty much convinced already.

Quentin takes a deep breath and leans in.

"Okay, I'll tell you, just...," he says and starts whispering into Eliot's ear.

Quentin hasn't lied about not knowing all the details. From what Eliot can gather Q was far too confused at first to really get what was happening. And after Eliot finally admitted his feelings they were too busy fucking, which Quentin hasn't said, but was heavily implied. Overall, bringing people back from the dead is just as hard to pull off as you would expect resurrecting people to be. It's also absolutely absurd, which is par for the course for Fillory, Eliot supposes.

"Just, be patient with me, ok?" Quentin asks him after he finishes telling Eliot everything, “I... wasn't in a great place back then and dying didn't really change that. I will be... or was, so glad to see you, just... I had a lot on my mind. It may take some time for my brain to unbreak itself this time" Q says, suddenly shy, "Wait for me?"

Eliot never had an easier promise to make.

"Always. I'll wait for you 50 fucking years if I have to," he says solemnly. He lightens up and because he can't stop himself, he adds, "Though I do hope it won't come to that. I kind of had a plan for those."

He wonders for a second if maybe he said too much. After all, the mosaic was never something they would just throw into a conversation. It was that sacred, unspoken thing that neither of them ever dared to touch.

"Oh, yeah? From what I've seen it's a pretty great plan," Q answers without missing a beat.

It makes sense. The mosaic is untouchable only because Eliot made it so by rejecting Q and making it seem like those memories didn't mean anything to him, when they meant everything. This Quentin is from the future, where Eliot apologized for being an idiot and hopefully they learned how to communicate with each other better, like the future, mature versions of themselves they are supposed to be.

Far more confident, he doesn't hesitate before responding.

"Well, if _You _say that then I guess I don't have any other choice but to turn that plan into reality. After all, who gets the proof of concept like that?"

Quentin chuckles with glee.

"You are such a _dork! _Wow. I can't believe I keep forgetting tha-."

"Eliot? What the fuck is going on up there?" Quentin is suddenly interrupted by a female voice. Oh, yeah, he was supposed to go on his daily 'please, don't kill yourself' walks with Margo. 

He turns toward the door to say something, anything to Margo, but his mind is blank. What can he possibly say that won't make him sound like he lost all of his last shreds of sanity?

"Eliot, if you don't answer me this second, I will take the rest of your Earth wine away," Margo threatens and it is successful in snapping Eliot out of it. 

"I'm here, Bambi," he finally says with some difficulty.

He looks over at Quentin to plead for help with his puppy eyes, but Quentin is no longer there. Instead, he used Margo as a distraction and run to the wardrobe that he came out of. Eliot can see a ray of light out of the corner of his eyes before the door closes. He runs up to it and opens it, but the magic is gone. The door only leads to the wardrobe now.

Margo comes into his room, but Eliot doesn’t turn around, still staring at the wardrobe. He can hear her walking towards him and he’s not surprised when he feels her hand on his arm.

"Eliot, are you okay?" Margo asks him softly, not worried about him at all.

He takes her hand and presses it against his lips, kissing it gently.

"More than okay,” he grins, “I'm going to get Quentin back."

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to the song "Time is on our side" by Jonas Brothers in the best Disney show of all time - Jonas. Obviously.


End file.
